


The Gray Between Darkness

by PadawanTimeLord



Category: Star Wars
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, hints of Kylux/Reylux, spy rey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2018-12-05 13:40:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11579196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PadawanTimeLord/pseuds/PadawanTimeLord
Summary: Rey becomes a spy for the resistance. She goes seeking out Kylo Ren, knowing that he would take her in if she asks him to teach her. He does, indeed, and tries very hard to show her the powers of the dark side.But Rey soon comes to realize that Kylo isn't the monster he tries so hard to convince everyone he is, almost as though he's two people sharing one body. Can she keep him from smothering his light side? Can she even manage to pull it to the surface completely?





	1. Chapter 1

 The room is cold and sterile, everything she is not to familiar with. Is this on purpose to throw her off, or just First Order protocols? She’ll find out soon, that is if Kylo Ren decides not to kill her on sight. Though she can’t be sure, it feels like it’s been hours since the stormtroopers boarded her ship to apprehend her, unnecessarily dragging her through the corridors of the _Finalizer_ and locking her up in this force-forsaken box. She knows he’s making her wait to show dominance, Ren wants her to know that she has no power here and she’s at his mercy. Anxious, ugly dread claws at her throat, and she struggles to keep her breaths at a steady pace. She tries counting the cracks in the wall to soothe her nerves.

 

 Rey straightens her back as she feels him slowly prowling towards her. She swallows all fear and schools her features to appear only mildly inconvenienced, and nothing else. _Don’t let him see you scared_ , she thinks to herself grimly, as the metallic door opens. The masked man of her nightmares and daydreams enters, flanked by two stormtroopers.

 

“Scavenger,” He greets emotionlessly, approaching the table she’s cuffed to, taking the seat opposite of her, “I hear that you gave yourself up. Is that true?” His mask makes everything he says ominous, a small flashback from their first meeting in the back of her mind. She hates the mask, almost more than she hates him. She decides to wait a beat before answering, giving her one more time to rehearse her story in her mind. _Stick as close to the truth as possible,_ the general said, _he might not be able to sense if you’re lying since you’re able to block him, but remembering your story is another matter entirely. Stick mostly to the truth to make things easier for you. One lie is easier to remember than two._

 

 “You were right.” Rey says, feeling her tongue turn to ash at those words, “I do need a teacher.”

 

 He seems very astonished by this, though Rey can’t see his features. She can feel those emotions bleeding through the wall he built from her. She can tell he’s not used to having to keep his feelings hidden from other force users. Good.

 

 “Forgive me, but I seem to recall you rejecting me in favor of… who was it, again? Oh, that’s right, _Skywalker_ ,” Ren growls, rage spiking in his aura. Rey can feel the ghost of the wound she had given him in their decisive battle all those months ago.

 

 “He refuses to help,” Rey looks down at her hands, doing her best to act humiliated, “Says he doesn’t want to get involved.” That was only a half-truth. He did allow her to train, but only in non-aggressive areas. He was more than happy to show her how to meditate, and only how to meditate. That thought helped her to give him a look that was a little bit more convincing.

 

 “And what do you want from me? I’m sorry, but I can’t help but feel a little suspicious of how _convenient_ your appearance is.” Kylo Ren leans back against the chair, apathetically staring her down. Or maybe he’s not even looking at her, Rey can’t be sure until his mask is off.

 

 “I want to help people,” Rey says, with true desperation mingling in her words, “I want to learn how to use my power for the people who need me.”

 

  Kylo is silent. For a moment, Rey even wonders if he’s rolling his eyes at her statement. Suddenly, he’s waving at the troopers, dismissing them. Rey breaks out into a sweat, despite the frigid air breathing down on her from the air vents above. Once they’ve disappeared out of the room and the door is firmly back in place, Kylo Ren raises his hands, placing them on either side of his mask. With a gentle hiss, it's off and now on the table. Rey is now looking directly into his eyes. “And you think that I will help you harness your powers.” His looks over her, the chaffed skin on her wrists from the cuffs, the faint scar on her neck from an accident back on Jakku, her clothes which are probably the cleanest he’s seen on her, her mouth, “Do you really think I will help train you just for you to run back to the resistance?”

 

Rey chokes back panicked laughter, hoping it sounds more like a halting sob, “The Resistance is terrified of me.”

 

 That gets his attention. He leans forward in interest, close enough for Rey to smell the gentle spiciness on his hair. “What do you mean?” He inquires, looking on the verge of breaking out into a smug lecture of how all her friends are failures and he told her so.

 

 “The only force-users they know of are Luke Skywalker and you. They aren’t eager to, as they put it, ‘having a loose cannon in the field’.” Bitter resentment fills her voice, because this is 100% true. The Resistance Council, with the exception of General Organa, is less than thrilled for her to be here spying on Kylo Ren. Fear of her switching sides to follow him consumed them, almost halting the entire operation to a stop. If it hadn’t been for the General-

 

 “What about my mother?” Kylo Ren demands sharply, his entire body going rigid, rage electrifying the air. Rey almost dies of fear, wondering how much he managed to glaze from her mind.

 

  She gets defensive, fortifying the wall she created to block him with, “You, stay out of my head.”

 

 “I wasn’t in it. I could feel that woman’s presence in your memories,” Kylo Ren snarls, his face contorting to something vengeful, a monster of her nightmares, _“Tell me_.”

 

 Rey scrambles for a truthful answer that he will want to hear, “She was the one who suggested I leave.” She hopes he won’t prod further, and thankfully he doesn’t. Instead, he throws his head back and laughs, and if Rey hadn’t been hoping for a reaction like this, she would feel thoroughly humiliated.

 

 “She did? What did I tell you, scavenger,” He stops laughing and turns sober, looking at her almost sympathetically, his features no longer repulsive since he stopped gloating, “They will all betray you in the end.” He sounds like he knows from experience, though Rey knows better than to fall for his lies. She needs to use this in order to get him on her side.

 

 “Will you betray me in the end as well?” Rey asks, turning the tables on him, hoping to work his fear of betrayal in her favor. It works,  all smugness gone, his face suddenly tender and kind.

 

 “No,” He says, allowing her to feel his honesty, “I would not.”

 

 Silence envelopes them. Rey’s wrist where the metal meets skin begins to throb, but she doesn’t dare move. She let’s him think. Finally, Kylo Ren rises from his seat, places his helmet on his head, and waves her hand over her cuffs in one fluid movement. They snap open, and Kylo Ren snatches the rashy area of the skin, inflaming her wound and pulling her to her feet. “Know that if _you_ betray me,” He says coldly, his voice once again distorted through his mask, “You will be begging for death once I’m through.” He releases her, the door behind them opening.

 

 “Follow me,” He commands, exiting the holding cell. The metallic air stings Rey’s nose as she has to practically run to keep up with Kylo Ren’s absurdly long strides. She can feel the prickling of stares as she passes working personnel, shock vibrating in the air at a thin, wiry woman following their leader. Rey burns with anxiety under the scrutiny. On Jakku, the best way to not be raped and left for dead was to blend in and be invisible. If she was the center of attention, something was very, _very_ wrong.

 She almost melts with relief and she and Ren enter a spacious room, covered in black mats that pad the floor, and array of weapons the the side, almost decorating the wall in a gruesome display of power. Several chests line the walls, all locked with familiar electro-locks that she’s used to destroying back in her days of scavenging. Ren gets a wooden staff from the wall and tosses it to Rey.

 

 “First thing,” His voice is still garbled from the helmet, “Your stance. Show me that you’re ready to fight.”

 

 “Wh- now?” Rey stammers in surprise, barely catching the staff with her sweaty hands.

 

 Ren’s helmet is off, and several layers of his clothes quickly follow. Rey tries not to stare at his muscled biceps as he folds his robes and sets them aside by taking a long time to remove her shoes, but she can’t help but notice the map of scars that reside in his skin. Ren steps into the center of the mat and motions her to comes closer. Swallowing, she shows him how she stands before fighting.

 

 “Your feet need to face your opponent, not each other,” He instructs, jabbing her stomach with the end of his staff. Rey lets out a grunting breath but does not give him the satisfaction of anything more.

 

 “Your arms are too low, your wrist aren’t bending right, elbows need to be angles differently,” Kylo continues rattling off the list of everything she is doing wrong, and it’s pretty long.

 

 Rey finally snaps, “This is how I fight, and it’s worked out pretty well for me.”

 

“You aren’t fighting with a metal stick anymore,” Ren barks back, “A lightsaber is  something exponentially more elegant, so bludgeoning your opponent to death won’t work.”

 

 Rey sucks in a frustrated breath, “Fine. Show me what I need to do, then.”

 

 “Slightly bend your knees, arms out-” He reaches over and manually begins to fix her body, running his hands along the limbs that need to be adjusted, “If your feet are even slightly turned towards each other, someone can easily knock you over here,” His fingers glide to her elbows, goosebumps trailing his touch, “These need to be straight. Weapon ready and aimed at your opponent.” He leaves her to hold the position on her own, then says, “This is the first stance of the Makashi Form, a dueling technique. Now follow my lead,” He picks up his staff, copies her stance, then slowly moves into the second position. She follows his movement best she can, but he’s back at her side, fixing the small details of her body’s movement.

 

 “Try again. Go into the first position, then fluidly, _slowly_ move to the second position.” He instructs, gently guiding her arm as she tries her best to do so. “Imagine that your bones are made of water. Don’t move, _flow_.” Rey doesn’t quite know how to mimic water, but she thinks of its nature and relaxes her muscles.

 

  “Better,” He amends, going ahead and showing Rey some more movements. “Those were all the beginner stances,” He says after an impossibly long string of movement, “Now repeat them.”

 

 Rey inwardly screamed in protest, but did so, interrupted constantly by Ren’s critiques. Sweat drips from her body, muscles weakened from the unfamiliar movements. Finally, Ren nods his approval at her improvement and dismisses her.

 

 “Now what?” Rey asks, pinching her arms to keep from crying. Now that she no longer has a task to focus on, she can feel anxiety rippling through her veins again.

 

 Ren is gathering his clothes as he answers, “That’s up to you, actually,” His arms are wrapped around his robes, “I will call a stormtrooper to take you to a cell. If you can prove to me that you are trustworthy, you will be given your own room.” Then he leaves her alone without bothering to put any of his clothes back on, exiting through a different door than they entered.

 

 Numbly, she gathers her shoes and overshirt and robotically put them on. It doesn’t bother her that she’s dirty, right now she’s willing to do anything as long as she can be alone for a few minutes. She goes out the door that she used previously, and comes face-to-face with a stormtrooper.

 

 “I’m here to escort you to your cell, Miss.” Though the trooper’s voice is steady, Rey can sense spikes of fear coming from her. Wordlessly, the trooper starts down the hall, expecting Rey to follow her. As Rey walks along, she thinks of how easily it would be to escape this one single trooper. But that’s the point, isn’t it? Kylo Ren is testing her. That’s probably why the way so far is suddenly empty. There’s probably a battalion in the hangar waiting for her. At this realization, Rey keeps her head down and no longer searches for easy escape routes. They go into an elevator and glide effortlessly to the prison deck. Quicker than she’d like, they arrive to the cells.

 

   “Here, Miss,” The trooper says, tapping a quick code into the lock. The door slides open almost soundlessly, and Rey steps inside. The small room smells like disinfectant, as though someone submerged everything in bleach to clean it. Everything seems shiny and new, as though this was a medical room, not a jail cell.

 

 “Thank you.” Rey says to the trooper, smiling sadly as the door shifts firmly back in place. She’s alone. She circles the room, hope slowly dying inside of her. A metal slab sticking out from the wall will be her bed, the blanket nothing more than a patch of scratchy gray material. There’s a tiny bathroom to the right, no door but thankfully out of view of the camera. Only a sink and a toilet occupy the space, but still, Rey thinks with a tiny glimmer of optimism, at least this is better accommodations than Jakku. _A cage is a cage_ , the rebellious part of her insists. She settles herself down on the bed, not bothering to take off any of her sweaty clothes or shoes.

 

 Then she starts crying.


	2. Chapter 2

The light hits Rey’s eyes with violence, waking her from her surprisingly heavy sleep. Her eyelids are crusted over with dried tears, her mouth feeling like a bug had crawled in it and died. She sits up, prying her eyes open to see who interrupted her slumber, but for a few minutes all she can spot are blurry shadows.

“Sorry Miss,” The stormtrooper, the same one that guided her last night, “Kylo Ren wishes to start today’s training now.”

“Right… Right…” Rey coughs, standing and then immediately regretting it. Dizziness pounds in her head, vertigo tilting her body off to the side. Her muscles creak in protest, dehydration makes her feel like her blood has been replaced by sand. “Let’s go.”

“Your breakfast, miss.” The trooper instructs, pointing to a small tray on the ground. A nutrience bar is on it, still in the wrapper and ready to eat. Rey snags it and follows the trooper down the cell block. They enter the elevator to get to their designated level, then down another hall. Rey pays more attention to their route this time, eating the bar, savoring the nutty sweet flavor. She finished it before they got the the training room.

Rey makes sure to thank the trooper again before the door slams shut behind her. The training room is void of Kylo Ren. After just a moment of waiting, she loses her patience and wanders to the weapons shelf almost automatically. Never before has she been without some weapon to defend herself with. She’s not exactly liking it.

“You didn’t eat last night,” Kylo Ren’s unmasked voice almost causing her to jump fifty feet in the air.

“I didn’t notice. I went straight to bed,” Rey lies, not wanting to admit that she bawled like a child into the late hours of the night, though she suspects Kylo Ren has been watching her and thus knows this.

“You need to eat. Keep your strength up.” Kylo Ren crosses his arms, trying really hard to seem like he didn’t care but fails spectacularly. Rey almost laughs except her throat is too dry. She picks up her staff and Ren gets his.

“Today we’re going to fight using the techniques you learned yesterday,” Ren says, standing in the ready position, “I’m going to attack you. Try to knock me off my feet.” Without even waiting for a response, he comes at her with blinding speed.

He tries smacking her her side, but she manages to block the way he showed her the previous day just in the nick of time. She follows him with her eyes as he circles her like a predator, trying to predict his next attack by his muscle movement. His right arm tenses up, and she knows to block again when he comes for her with a wide arc near her legs, the sound of wood smacking together echos off the high ceiling.

Her breathing becomes more and more ragged as time passes, Kylo always attacking and Rey always deflecting his blows. His endurance is extraordinary, and Rey soon finds herself tiring out. Though used to long hours of scavenging, the muscles used in combat are apparently a little different. She finds it getting increasingly more difficult to block his attacks while he steadily comes at her, almost robotically.

He swipes to the left. She sees it and tries to block, but her sore arms move too slow. The staff hits her legs with a graceful thwap, the impact knocking her onto her back. The staff slips from her grip and lands somewhere to the side. The end of Ren’s staff jabs her in the head to announce his victory. She grunts in response, refusing to acknowledge the bruising muscle on her calves.

“Do you know what you did wrong?” Ren asks, holding out a hand to help her up. She ignores it and stands on her own.

“I was too slow.” She states, picking her staff back up. It’s warm and slick with sweat.

“No,” Ren contradicts, “How many different positions did I teach you yesterday?

“Um,” Rey tries to remember, “A lot?”

“And out of the many stances I taught you, how many were outright attacks?” He doesn’t wait for her to answer, “Far more than the defensive moves I taught you. Your mistake was resorting only to the defensive stances.” He leans against his staff like it’s a walking stick, “I gave you ample time in between strikes for you to land a hit. Instead, you tire yourself in defense.”

Rey grits her teeth in frustration, but says nothing. Ren motions her to return the staff to it’s place, giving her his to put back as well. Once she does that, Ren’s by the now open door to his room, not going in but looking at her expectantly. “It’s time for a break.” He says, and Rey knows it’s for her benefit only. A swell of shame tries to worm its way into her chest but she pushes it away, and follows Ren into his room.

She tries not to gape at the sheer size of the room, just a living area, she realizes (she learned the difference between a sleeping room and a living room in General Organa’s quarters). It’s big, not as big as the lounge in the Resistance, but for just a place to sit and relax? It’s pretty damn big. A black table on the far side of the space, cabinets and shelves that are only sparsely filled and decorated lining the walls. A tiny kitchen is in the corner, something Rey doubts he uses. A wine rack near the living room. Everything is blood red, black, or very very very dark gray.

A tiny little door to the side of the actual exit opens as a little service putters in, beeping almost sweetly to alert them of its presence. It carried a tray of food, two plates and a large glass bottle of clear liquid. Kylo Ren picked up the tray and set it on the table, setting two places opposite of each other. He brings out the most delicate cups Rey has ever seen, impossibly thin and transparent, pouring the liquid from the bottle into it. Bubbles gently fizzed to the surface of the glass. He turns to Rey.

“Sit.” It’s not a suggestion.

She obeys, sitting on the soft, velvet cushioned seat in front of him. She waits for him to start eating before inquiring about what he put in her cup.

“It’s water,” He explains. 

“Water doesn’t bubble.” She contradicts, frowning at him.

He sighs, “Rey, we’ve established that I don’t lie to you already. It’s a special water, carbonated. It has minerals inside that creates a fizzing effect.”

She stares at him stubbornly. He sighs, tips his glass, and drains it in a few swigs. “There, see? Nothing wrong.”

Rey reluctantly takes a sip. The bubbles hitting her tongue pleasantly, the water having an almost acidic taste. She drinks it all, almost having forgotten how thirsty she’s been all day. Her throat kind of burns, but she finds that she likes the feeling. Ren pours her another glass, but she focuses on the food. She devours it, barely noticing what it is. Some sort of bread, white and fluffy, easy to swallow. Meat is on top of it, and cheese, too. Spices flood her mouth, but it’s already gone and safely in her stomach before her tastebuds can process what they are. She’s embarrassed at how just one day and one morning without much to eat has affected her. The constant meals from the Resistance have chipped away her tolerance for hunger.

She quietly watches Kylo Ren eat. He eats like a dainty prince, or what she imagines a dainty prince to eat like. He's eating the same thing she was served, not ripping apart a raw, blood covered carcasses like a monster as she half expected from him. Finally, once he’s done, he looks up at Rey, “You should have eaten last night.” He could barely focus on eating himself after watching Rey inhale her food like a starving animal. Rey doesn’t answer, leaving the two of them in awkward silence as he puts their dirty dishes onto the service droid. It beeps and then peacefully chugs away.

“We won’t be doing combat this afternoon,” Kylo Ren says, moving back to the training room. Rey follows him, emotionless and unsure of what she’ll be doing. He sits in the center of the mat, cross legged, and motions her to do the same. She settles down in front of him.

“Clear your head of all thoughts,” Ren instructs unclearly, “And feel the force.”

After a few hours of impatient breathing, Rey had done neither of those things, according to Ren, “I can hear your thoughts from over here,” He grumps.

“Sorry,” Rey barks, slamming her mind shut from him.

“Building a wall to block me and emptying your thoughts are two different things,” Ren snapped, “Don’t think I won’t know if your mind is off thinking of noble fantasies versus actually doing what I tell you to do.”

“Oh, aren’t you one to know about noble fantasies.” Rey snarls, temper flaring.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You know what.”

“We’re done.” Kylo stands, voice barely restraining rage, “We aren’t getting anywhere and, believe it or not, I have work to do that doesn’t involve you. Your guard is waiting outside.” He leaves through his room’s door.

Rey goes back out, and there’s her stormtrooper, right where she last saw her. Rey has a sick feeling that the stormtrooper has been waiting for her all day. As they walk down the hall, she wonders briefly how she should approach the subject. One they’re in the elevator, she turns to face her guide, “Please tell me you weren’t standing there the whole time.”

“My job is to… guard you.” The stormtrooper says, the hesitation between the sentence hinting that she is also in charge of putting Rey down if she steps out of line.

“Oh. Well, I’m sorry, uh, that you have to deal with everything.” Rey responds awkwardly, walking down the hall alongside the stormtrooper. She’s loses herself in thought, not noticing the ginger man who passes them in the hall or the taller stormtrooper in silver armor bent over a console in the prison section. Once they’re back to Rey’s cell the trooper motions the folded clothes with her hand.

“It’s shower day, Miss,” The stormtrooper says, “I need to take you down there.”

Rey wordlessly gathers her clothes in her hand, a small towel included in the bundle, then follows the trooper down the line of cells, all shut, to the end of the hall. They enter a large room, the disinfectant smell almost overpowering here, the tile floor slick with steam and water. Rey almost slips but manages to catch herself on time. The ‘fresher stalls are all covered with only a flimsy piece of cloth for privacy, mildew edging the ends of basically every single one.

“Does it matter which one I use?” Rey asks hesitantly, the uncaring shrug of the trooper her answer. Rey sighs and gets into the nearest one, trying to figure out a dry place she can put her clean clothes (bra and underwear even included… she doesn’t want to know how they know her size), eventually settling for hanging them over the wall of the stall. Thankfully, no one is here. She pulls her single bun from her hair and wraps the band around her finger.

It takes her a moment to figure out how to turn on the ‘fresher stall, though the Resistance taught her how to use them, this one is unfortunately different. Finally, she manages to turn the right dial, a shower of cold water bursting from the pipes at a peel-your-skin-off pressure. She tries a different dial, and the pressure goes down to a barely there trickle, but the heat doesn’t change. She fiddles with the two dials again, going from one to the other but only having cold water at two opposite pressures.

Giving up with the harder pressure, she reaches over to a soap dispenser and pumps out a little pile of what smells like gooey sanitizer. She quickly scrubs her body as fast as possible, letting the water pressure wash the grit away. She turns off the water once the last of the suds drip into the drain, and takes the towel to dry herself off. It’s barely a hand towel, it takes longer than she’s like to be here, naked and vulnerable to anyone who’d want to attack her. She hastily puts her new clothes on, the dampness of her skin hindering against any kind of speed. It’s nothing but a simple tunic and leggings, not a prisoner’s jumper with a barcode across the front. That has to count for something, at least?

She tucks the towel in her clothes, worried that she might have to give it back. It would be nice to use something to wash her face in case this ‘fresher thing is only a weekly thing. She exits the stall, not bothering to slip on her shoes, and the trooper wordlessly turns and escorts Rey back to her cell. Rey is sure again to thank the trooper again as the door closes, shutting her from the rest of the world.

Rey gingerly places the towel by the sink, looking at her reflection for a moment. Her hair feels longer than her normal shoulder-length, more unruly because she has nothing to groom it with. She pries the damp knots apart Her rubber band is still tied around her finger, thankfully not lost. She forgoes the normal loose hair for night and instead does a single braid down the back. Her fingers feel dry, on the verge of being chapped. The soap must have dried her skin out.

As she goes to take a drink, the edge of the sink catches her eye. A single, sharp piece is sticking out from the plating. Gently, she bends it back and forth, over and over, until the edge is loose enough the snap off. The tip of her finger catches against the edge, blood seeping through the cut. Sharp. Rey smiles. On the underside of the sink, she bends over and scratches in two tally marks for the two days she has been here, then hides the small blade on the other side of the toilette.

A small victory, Rey thinks to herself with a smidgen of happiness bubbling through her. She walks over to the edge of the room by the door, where dinner is waiting. Plastic plates, silverware, and cup, nothing she could break to create a weapon. She eats the creamy grain on the floor, then leaves them where she found it. She goes to her bed, wrapping her blanket tightly around her body and slipping to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

__The tally marks increase as the days go by. Every day is the same, a nutrition bar ready for her to grab and eat on her way to Kylo Ren, combat training first and then lunch with him. Meditation after lunch, then being dismissed and leaving with her stormtrooper. Every three tally marks is the ‘fresher day, always empty, always smelling like harsh chemicals. The soap dries her skin out, so the space in between the bathing is probably a good thing. She simply rinses herself out in her sink on the other nights.

On tally mark 26, at the end of another unsuccessful meditation session, Kylo surprises her by saying, “I suspect you know the way back to your cell?” Before disappearing into his room the way he always does. Rey tentatively steps out of the training room. Her stormtrooper is nowhere in sight. A brief moment of panic shoots through her. Did something happen to her stormtrooper? With a sickening realization, Rey realizes that she doesn’t even know the girl’s name. Guilt and shame burning through her, Rey walks herself down the hall, to the elevator, through the prison section. She self consciously passes the officers and other prisoners, her cell door open and ready for her when she arrived. The door shuts gracefully as she steps inside.

For the second time since she came here, she cries herself to sleep that night.

She awakens to light as the door slides open, no guard this time. She rubs her eyes, instantly regrets it when the stinging starts, and tries to stand. She goes over to the small tray where her shoes are, clean and polishes, and her morning nutrition bar. She notices the wrapper for the breakfast bar is open slightly, then goes into the bathroom and peels away the plastic to find small, handwritten scribble that’s barely legible: Finn says to stay strong. She feels like she can suddenly breathe again, holding the note against her chest for a few minutes. Then she tears it up and flushes it down the toilet, hating to remove any smidgen of hope but knows the price if she’s caught with it.

Rey quickly strikes a tally mark into the metal. Day 27. Today will be fine. She exits the wide open door, it stays open even as she turns the corner. She passes the guards in their little security hub, a circular desk where four stormtroopers and two petty officers always are. Rey gives them an awkward little wave as she passes, unsure if she should stop and talk to them for instructions or if she is doing fine. The petty officer who isn’t buried nose deep in what appears to be a thrilling data pad gives her, well, not a sneer, but a really confused frown like he couldn’t believe Rey just tried to communicate with him. Out of the corner of her eye as she passes, the stormtrooper to the left gives her a little wave with their fingers, just subtle enough to be missed by the officers. As Rey enters the elevator, she smiles.

Yes, today will be fine.  
___________________

Or not, she thinks angrily, her arm stinging as Kylo Ren manages to land another hit.

“So you think you can help people?” He sneers at her, “You can’t even help yourself.”

Rey hisses with pain, burning with anger at how easily he’s able to get her. She knows that by no means is she weak, years of hardship on Jakku has seen to that, but the ease that he is able to disarm and even kill her if he wants is alarming.

“Look at you, I barely touched you. Do you think that’s painful? Just wait.” Kylo Ren laughs.

“It’s not fair.” Rey snarls, throwing her staff onto the ground. “You are using moves I haven’t learned yet. Of course its hurting me,” She knows that she sounds like a petulant child, but she’s fed up and the stress is getting to her head.

“Fair.” Kylo Ren states, smirking like Rey just said the most hilarious thing he’s ever heard. “Fair.” He comes at her again, and she has nothing to defend herself with other than her fists. She catches his staff in her hands, just barely managing to limit the damage on her chest and spine as he shoves her to the ground. Her arms are pinned under his weight, her lungs constricting as he presses his body up against hers. “Do you think that you opponents will want to fight fairly?” His breath is warm and not actually unpleasant, his mouth just an inch or two from her ear. “Do you think that those who you fight will not want to take everything you have? I am training you for real, actual fights, Scavenger.”

Rey absolutely does not whimper. Rey also absolutely does not let Kylo know that she doesn’t hate this, his body hovering over hers, his breath against her neck. She refuses to meet his eyes, not even allowing herself to look at any other part of him. The weight eases as he gets up, leaving her laying flat on her back. She refuses to get up, nstead staring at the ceiling in silence and refusing to acknowledge him.

After a few minutes of a stalemate, she gets up and walks towards the exit.

“What? Where are you going?” Kylo Ren growls, glaring at her.

“Back to my cell.” Rey responds coldly, “I’m done being your punching bag for the day.”

“Come back.” Ren demands, then again when she doesn’t comply, “I said come back here, Rey!”

She ignores him, leaving the room and walking down the cold metal hall, her feet still bare. She refuses to go back and put her shoes on, she refuses to go back to slip her outer garment on. Instead, she bares the chill with a stiff upper lip, heading back to the jail block with as much dignity as she can muster. She passes the round desk hub for the cells, and the personnel manning seems a little surprised to see her down so early. Or maybe she’s just imagining it.

She gets to her cell and climbs onto her bed, wrapping her blanket around her and glaring at the wall. The doors slide shut and leave her in the slightly blue light shining from the corners of the ceiling. There’s nothing to do for the next few hours but think and plot and glare at that stupid wall opposite of her that she swears is a slightly different shade of shiny gray than the other three. Slightly lighter. Slightly less metallic. She’s not crazy.

After what seems like just a whisper of an eternity, the door slides open to reveal a fresh outfit and small towel. Shower day, Rey remembers grimly. Her stormtrooper is nowhere in sight, so Rey assumes that she’s free to shower on her own. What joy. She collects her things and trudges down the hall, opposite of the elevator to get to Kylo Ren’s floor. As always, the smell hits her even before she manages to enter the room. Rey feels pity for those who live in the cells closest to the shower rooms, having to deal with these ungodly fumes all day every day for their imprisonment.

The showers, thankfully as always, are devoid of all life as she enters. Not even poor microorganisms can live in these conditions. Rey gets in her usual one, going through all the motions that she usually does, though feeling the sudden void of awkwardness without her usual audience. She washes as fast as possible, dries off best she can, and gets into the usual tunic and leggings provided. Her shoes were still gone, so she pads barefoot back to her cell, where her usual mushy vegetable, grain, and unknown substance (meat? Mushrooms? Something else? She doesn’t want to know) is waiting as usual.

She eats like an animal, shoveling the food into her mouth, no utensils provided. They probably thought she would use them as potential weapons, and they were absolutely right. She would absolutely march through the corridors with a plastic spoon to stab Kylo Ren in the eye right about now. She leaves the tray and dirty clothes in front of her door and bundles back up into her cocoon of scratchy blanket and misery, slowly drifting to sleep.

The unnatural light is the source of her awakening again. Grudgingly, She rolls out of bed in time to see her stormtrooper drop off her breakfast bar and rush off before she can even vocalize a greeting. She tries to shoot up to chase her, a huge mistake, Rey realizes as a wave of dizziness pounds her head. She topples to the side but manages to keep upright. She hastily grabs her breakfast bar, just barely noticing her shoes waiting for her by the door. Rey’s not sure what to make of this. Can her nameless trooper be her resistance contact?

No, she decides not even to think about that. Even trying to piece together evidence would still be damning if Kylo Ren manages to glaze the information from her mind. Rey tries to ignore it altogether, opting not to try to chase her trooper down. She grabs her nutrition bar and heads upstairs.

Kylo Ren is waiting for her in the training room. Rey glares at him, arms crossed and refusing to be the one to back down first, even if they have to stand like this all day. After just a moment, though, Ren clears his throat and looks away. “I suppose,” He says as though the words are glass in his throat, “I was a little hard on you yesterday.”

A pitiful attempt to sound like an apology, but a start nonetheless. Rey takes off her shoes as a gesture of acceptance, but glares at him to show that there’s no forgiveness, not yet.

He’s more gentle today. Less demanding, Rey decides she likes this side of him better. She manages to land a few hits on him, though she knows he’s lowering his guard on purpose. It still feels good nonetheless.

The next day, Rey feels a difference in the air. They bicker again, but this time it’s good natured, almost teasing. He continues to give her opportunities to strike him, lowering his guard, standing with feet turned in, attacking a little too hard on the left. She lands a hit on him, this time all on her own. She can tell that Kylo’s proud of her, even though she’s still defeated by the end. And she likes that he’s proud of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I probably shouldn't publish three chapters in the span of three days but I really want to make sure this fic stands out from the others and that means getting the story along. 
> 
> So yeah. Don't expect this kind of speed in the future. This is a weekend. My time is going to shrink exponentially once I start my new job. Sorry.


	4. Chapter 4

Day 30, Rey decides that she hates meditation. She stares at Kylo’s closed eyes, frowning at his serene face. Is she jealous? No. Suddenly, she feels a playful jab in her stomach. At the smirk twisting upon Kylo’s lips, she knows it was him. She closes her eyes fiercely and tries to concentrate giving him a little push. Nothing happens besides a hideous headache for the rest of the day.  
  
“You’re trying to do eighty things at once,” Kylo explains to her, “You need to focus on just one object, then try to channel your energy into one pointed move.”

On day 31, She She feels a gentle vibration during meditation. She feels it coming from Kylo, the steady beat of his heart and the thrum of his life force suddenly within her reach. She gives him a poke. The only sign that what she did worked is his smile.

Day 35, She and Kylo are fighting, as usual. He gives her an opening, and she immediately goes for it. Except this time, she tries focusing on him like she’s been practicing, and finally, finally, she sees, no, she feels what he’s about to do before he does it. He tries to feint left, so she whips her staff parallel to the right, weaving herself so she faces his back, then rams into him with all her strength, adding weight to his move and throwing him off balance. He twists to try to regain his balance, but his body loses to gravity. He’s flat on his back, and Rey jumps onto him, straddling him, pushing her staff up against his throat.

Kylo starts laughing. “Good, good, Rey! Excellent job.” Rey scrambles to get off of him, feeling suddenly awkward sitting on him like that, but the emotions projecting from Kylo suggest he rather liked having her there. Her face turns slightly pink, but she doesn’t say anything about it because she realizes that she liked that too. He

He stands, stretching his arm, then asks, “Do you know what you did right?”

Rey cleared her throat, “I… used the force?”

Kylo smiles at her, a wolfish but proud smile, “You used the force in a battle situation. You managed to feel my aura and pick out my movements.”

“Oh.” Rey says, looking down and picking at her fingers, “And that’s good. For my training.”

“Very good. Good enough for you to be rewarded, I think.” Kylo strides over to the pad on the door and makes a few tapping, “I’ve had your room ready for awhile now, but wanted to give it to you when you finally make good progress.”

“My own room?” Rey felt dizzy at the possibility. No more cell? Maybe a nicer bathroom?

“Take the rest of the day off. I’ll call a stormtrooper to escort you there.” Kylo says, turning to go back to his room, then turns back briefly and is serious, “See, Rey? Give me reason to trust that you’ll work hard for me, and I’ll see to it that you live a comfortable life.” Then he’s gone.

Rey stares at his back as he disappears, trying to sort through her muddled emotions. She can feel him, though, just on the other end of the door, so she figures that maybe it would be safer if she took her loud thinking to her room. She leaves the training room, and comes face to face with a stormtrooper. Her stormtrooper! Rey grins, “Hello, again!”

The trooper’s surprise at Rey’s memory shoots into her aura, and Rey is pleased to find that there is no longer any fear vibrating in the air. Hopefully because Rey shows kindness to the trooper and not because she’s undeniably pathetic.

“Hello again, Miss.” The stormtrooper greeted, then gestures down the hall, “If you would follow me?” Rey nods and goes down the hall with her. It looks like she’s going to be on the same deck as Kylo this time, though in a different sector. They go left in when the hallway crosses with another, a map with emergency protocol on it and a large letter on the wall saying that they entered into C Quadrant. The doors here were closer together, meaning the rooms were smaller, but Rey honestly didn’t care in the slightest.

  
During their walk, Rey tries to make conversation, “I’m really sorry I haven’t asked for your name before. What would you like me to call you?”

The trooper’s steps falter, then she catches herself and keeps going as though nothing happened, “FN-2245,” She says, her voice stoic, “If you need anything from me, your door should have an intercom on it and you can contact my superior.”

“Thank you, FN-2245.” Rey repeats the name in her head several times, trying to memorize the odd sequence of letters and numbers.

“No matter, Miss.” FN-2245’s tone suggested that it did, in fact, matter, and Rey feels a bit of happy warmth coming from FN-2245’s aura, “You didn’t need to know my name.”

“It doesn’t mean anything if I ‘needed’ to or not. You’re a person. I was rude, and I’m sorry.” Rey insists as the rounded another corner. Good sand gods, how long were these hallways anyway?

“Thank you, Miss.” FN-2245 says, and Rey can feel her smile under that mask, “We’re here now. This will be your room.” She gets out a small chip, then pushes it into an opening on the side of the front scanner to the side of the door. “Place your hand on the screen. The locks will adjust to your biometrics and allow you to enter and exit at will.”

Rey places her hand on the scanner, the screen flashing red as it takes in her print, letters appearing and asking her to shift her hand so it can read it at a different angle. After several different hand positions, then the same process repeated with her left hand, the lock flashes green, and the door opens. FN-2245 gestures to the internal lock on the other side of the wall and adds, “In any of these you see on the ship, press the intercom button and scroll down for FN-2299 if you get lost on your way back. He’s my superior, and he needs to be the one who pulls me from whatever I’m doing. Stay put wherever you are and I’ll come get you.”

“Thank you.” Rey says gratefully, glad she has one person that’s not Kylo Ren she can call for help. She doesn’t even want to think about having to call Ren if she gets lost.

“Not a problem, Miss.” FN-2245 nods at Rey, then adds, as though an afterthought, “I wouldn’t go out exploring just yet, Miss. You still make a lot of people nervous. Maybe I can give you a personal tour of the stormtrooper’s sectors later on, help smooth over people’s stress.”

“Oh, I would like that, very much.” Rey agrees fervently.

“Then I will be seeing you later, Miss Rey.” FN-2245 leaves Rey alone in her room. The door slides shut behind her.

Rey looks over her new room, a feeling of happy satisfaction filling her lungs. It’s by no means anything close to Kylo’s apartment, in fact the whole of it could probably fit in his living room, but it’s actually far nicer than the room she shared in the resistance. She closes her eyes and breaths, relief at the lack of harsh chemicals plaguing her nostrils. Here, it smells nice, like warm spiced tea. It’s such a small detail really, but it makes everything so, so much better.

A low queen sized bed is in the center of the far side wall, with a plush wine-red bedspread and decorated with more black pillows than one person needs. It sits atop a wonderfully fluffy rug, the only cover for the metallic floor in the entire room. Small, black drawers flank the bed, the one on the right carrying what looks like a digital clock. Rey spins around slowly, taking in every detail of her new haven. In the corner to the right of the bed, a lounge chair with an empty bookshelf by it. To the left, there’s a dark gray metallic table for two near the door. Near the table, there’s a shelf carved into the wall, a box of various teas and powders sitting next to a food heater. Two mugs lay on a tray, face down. No refrigerator, no plates.

Two doors to the right, so Rey enters the closest. A private bathroom, Rey closes her eyes, takes a deep, shaking breath, then reopens them. A private ‘fresher, all hers, that doesn’t smell like an unholy concoction of germ killers. Here, there’s no more black interior. Everything is a polished white, a beautiful sink with a shiny silver-colored nozzle and dials. The ‘fresher is perfect, a warped glass sliding door instead of a flimsy curtain. The switch on the inside has a side painted red and a side painted blue, like the Resistance's showers, and Rey knows that she now has hot water. It takes all of Rey’s self-control to not strip right there and then.

She leaves the perfect bathroom to see what the other door holds, and gasps, not quite believing what she sees. Clothes. So many clothes, tank tops, long sleeve shirts, skirts, dresses, robes. All the same gray-red-black scheme so everything will match with each other, like this was some sort of ‘make your own Ren Knight’ doll game. Rey’s head spins at the sudden options, since she’s only been wearing the prison tunic she’d been given. She grabs the closest combination and goes back to the bathroom for a shower.

Rey takes an absurdly long time in the ‘fresher, breathing in the steam and letting it clean her of any doubts she’d been having of this mission. Kylo is trusting her more now, surely she’ll be privy to sensitive information soon. She feels like a weight is lifted from her shoulders as the deliciously warm water runs down her skin, only leaving when her stomach growls with hunger.

She tries herself off with a fluffy, white towel, then pulls all her clothes on with ease. Leggings, four-part skirt, a cloth belt around her waist, and a shirt that only covered to the end of her ribcage. She takes a glance at her reflection before she leaves, and is surprised to see a rather attractive reflection looking back.

She exits the bathroom, a service droid already by the table with a plate full of food awaiting her. She’s glad to have a table to eat on. This time, she takes pleasure in eating her dinner, no longer plainly flavored prison gruel, but a richly spiced meat and wonderfully fresh vegetables. She places her tray back onto the service droid, then collapses onto her bed in one fluid movement. She’s asleep before she realizes it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo is a bit of a dick, but that's okay. Rey shuts that shit down fast.

Her dreams are of a meadow, beautifully green and lush with life. A cheerfully bubbly stream weaves its way through the grass and flowers, just to her side. Can she walk to it? She feels like she should stay still. A shadowy figure is suddenly to her right, but she isn’t frightened of it. He’s stoic, his face untraceable, the shadow doesn’t seem to be evil at all. Just mournful and... sad. She sits by him, but doesn’t say anything, letting the peaceful silence wash over them. After awhile, he looks over to her, surprise all over his features. “How are you here?” His voice echoes, on and on, until it’s replaced by something, something loud… Beep? Beep?  

 

She jolts awake, the steady beeping noise following her to the world of the awake. She shifts in her bed so she can face the merciless perpetrator that interrupted her happy slumber. The digital clock is flashing in steady rhythm with the noise, alerting her that it’s time to get up and go to Kylo’s for training. As she rolls out of bed, her eyes settling on a service droid hanging out by its little door. Her usual breakfast bar and bowl of some creamy grain is on its tray.

 

She spoons the mixture into her mouth, mind whirling at the separate vents and shafts the service droids use, different from the other droids and people. Could she fit in the tunnel if she needs to? Probably. Hopefully. She finishes the sweet grain and put the bowl back onto the droid’s tray, then watches carefully as it putters back through its door. It flaps open, then closes as the tiny droid disappears into the darkness. She glances up around her.  She can’t see any cameras, but she should be careful anyway, as a precaution. She gently prods the edge of the service door, but nothing happens. It appears to be locked up tight, but not vacuum sealed so that means there’s still breathable air on the other side. 

 

She finally heads over to Kylo’s room, remembering perfectly which turns and twists she needs to make in the maze-like halls. Or maybe she senses his ever steady presence and just needs to follow the tug in her mind. Kylo is, as usually, already working hard, shirt off and practicing his stances. Without realizing it, she’s admiring his body, the way his muscles flow and ripple as her moves. 

 

If he notices her staring, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he grunts, “Is your room to your liking?” 

 

“Yes, it’s very nice.” Rey says, then adds, “Thank you.” She feels strange, not from thanking Kylo, but actually the lack of feeling the familiar twist of her gut when she says it. She no longer hates talking to him, and… she no longer hates him so much. She’s not sure if she likes him, but she no longer has to restrain herself from strangling him. 

 

“Well, you’ve earned it,” Kylo states, motioning over to the weapons shelf, “We’re going to try something new today.” 

 

_ Oh, thank the force _ , Rey thinks numbly, but tries to pretend like she didn’t care. And failing at that, because Kylo seems to enjoy her reaction. Wordlessly, he hands her a lightsaber. She almost drops it in shock.

 

“It’s a training saber, blade significantly weaker than a normal lightsaber,” Kylo explains, “Show me your basic stances with it.”

 

She goes through the first stances he taught her, and he grunts his approval. “We’re going to start a more aggressive technique today,” Kylo says, pulling out a training saber for himself, “Now follow my lead.” 

 

Rey finds that she actually enjoys the closeness when he comes over to correct her stances. Craves it, even. Sometimes  she angles herself a little too crooked on purpose, just to feel the brush of his fingers as he fixes her posture. And suddenly, his face is near to hers as he corrects her arm’s position. Rey knows that he noticed her intentional screwups. 

 

The two of them stare at each other’s eyes, neither of them wanting to be the one who looks away first. Somehow, they’re barely just a hair’s width from each other’s mouth. Rey knew that if she leans in, just slightly, they would touch. His closeness is so very distracting. Rey loses control and coherence, doing only what her instincts tell her to do.

 

The kiss is chaste and soft, hesitation on both sides. His mouth is warm. They’re both still playing a game of chicken, almost daring each other to be the first one to pull away. They both break at the same time, neither breathless. Kylo’s hands reach up to her waist, pressing his mouth onto her’s again. He’s not demanding in the slightest, only pleading, desperate. A question, not a command. 

 

Rey drops her unlit practice saber, reaching her hand up to graze his cheek, traveling up to his hair and tangling her fingers into his raven locks. The kiss ends and she’s guiding his hands down to her hips, then places hers on his neck. That neck, the neck she’s wanted to stab and strangle and snap. Wouldn’t it be so easy to do it now? He kisses her again, and her mind goes white, and she suddenly feels the thrum of life that pulses through his skin, the electricity that fizzes through the wires, and she can  _ see _ everything, the objects in of the room just within her reach, she can even taste them-

 

The entire room rattles ominously, and Rey snaps out of her trance. A burst of fear zips through her, everything suddenly stopping, her senses shutting down to only her fight or flight instincts. She closes her eyes, everything suddenly silent and still, only Kylo’s steady panting besides her own can be heard. Once the fear is gone, shame takes its place. She pulls from Kylo’s embrace, still burning from the pleasure of his touch. She opens her eyes.

 

“I’m… I’m sorry.” Rey chokes, staring dumbfoundedly at the destruction surrounding her, the weapons all splayed on the floor, part of the mat ripped in half. She turns to leave, but Kylo snatches her back to face him, a wild look in his eyes.

 

“Don’t ever apologize for something so… wonderful,” He yanks her close and smashes his lips against hers. This kiss is vastly different than the sweetness he had shown her before, replaced by a vicious possessiveness. His tongue is on her lips, trying to pry them open. Rey panics at his sudden, forceful nature, memories of another, darker time bubbling to the surface. She chokes a scream back and shoves him away as hard as she can.

 

He stumbles back, surprise on his features. He opens his mouth to say something, probably an apology, but Rey leaves before she can hear it. She runs down the hall as fast as she can, hoping that Kylo wouldn’t dare follow her without his mask and therefore giving her a head start. 

 

She barely comprehends the few people she passes, all officers of higher rank until she violently collides with a disgruntled ginger. The force of the hit knocks datapads out of his hands. He grunts in surprise, but in more of a he can’t believe he’s inconvenienced way. 

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Rey hates how she’s constantly apologizing for everything, it’s like something she can’t stop. 

 

“I hope you are.” The ginger man grumbles as she gathers his datapads for him.

 

Rey hands them back, mumbling, “Here.” He doesn’t snatch like she’s disease ridden, but he’s not exactly kind either. 

 

“Don’t go bolting down the halls. Someone may think that you are up to something.” The ginger states, almost as though he means it kindly, even if compassion isn’t in his vocabulary. He turns and continues walking down the hall as if the crash did not happen. 

 

Rey finally gets to her room and throws herself onto her bed, her lips tingling from Kylo’s kisses. She kicks off her leggings, her entire body feeling hot. Her core is still warm, still aching for his touch, from before she let the force through her, before he was seduced by her power. The gentleness of his mouth, the question in his eyes that didn’t threaten her. She wants that Kylo, not the Kylo who dares to possess her. 

 

The forbidden memory scratches it’s way in the back of her mind. Rey wraps herself up in her blankets, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to think of anything else, everything else. She eventually drifts off into a nap. 

 

When she wakes, one glance at the clock informs that she’s slept until late evening, the echo of a headache pinching her brows. She sits up, then notices the figure sitting in her lounge chair, a mask on top of the empty bookshelf.

 

Kylo’s face is wracked with… guilt? He looks down on the ground, then back in her, his eyes flickering over everything in a panicked state, “I’m sorry. I stepped out of line and I scared you. I don’t want you to fear me.” Rey doesn’t think she’s ever heard him apologize for anything, but he’s earnest and sincere. She doesn’t say anything, letting him continue, “When I saw your powers, I reacted badly. If you want to go back to the way things were before today…” He took a shuddering breath, “We can do that. I won’t touch you again.” 

 

“And if I don’t?” Rey asks, tilting her head at him.

 

He looks over her, fear across his features.  _ Maybe that’s why he wears a mask,  _ Rey muses,  _ he wears his emotions on his face. _ “Don’t what?” He asks quietly.

 

Rey pulls her blankets off and stands. She only now remembers that she’s only wearing her short tunic, slit on the sides. But she puts her chin up and stares at him with all the confidence she can muster “Kylo, you can’t own me.” 

 

“I know.” Kylo says, voice choking with anguish.

 

“You can’t pretend to, either.” Rey crosses her arms. He’s almost a different person from when she first meets him, she now knows that his viciousness is a front, a facade that he created to convince himself and those around him that he’s evil. She knows that she can ease his softer side out so long as she keeps his trust. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Kylo whispers.

 

Rey stares at him for a moment, then says, “Come here.”

 

He obeys, and Rey is reminded once again how he towers over her. She takes the collar of his cape, then gently pulls him down so she can gently press her mouth against his. The force whispers its approval in her blood, her brain reaching out and wrapping around Kylo’s. He opens his emotions to her, she can taste his honesty and desperation, she hears echoes of his own self hatred, and she breathes in his attachment to her that’s buried deep in his subconscious. She sees herself through his eyes, the little tuft of hair that never cooperates but he finds endearing, the way her mouth thins into a pout when she’s concentrating, how utterly  _ perfect _ she was when she pinned him to the ground. Her smile when she succeeded to levitate a small object for a moment, it lit up the whole room and made his chest squeeze.  _ You’re beautiful, _ he whispers into her mind,  _ every part of you. _

 

Her chest swells with an unknown affection. She knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he loves her. She finds that… she’s not opposed to those feelings he has. Good for the Resistance, at least she tells herself that. But how those emotions can twist themselves and manifest in different ways will depend entirely on how she delicately manages their relationship. 

 

“Lay with me.” Rey murmurs, “Stay for the night. Please.” Her arms wrap around his waist, pulling him down to her bed. He says nothing, but tucks his arm around her chest and curling his body against hers. 

 

Rey lays silently, listening to the steady thrum of his heart, feeling his breathing on the top of her head, she can feel his aura drift peacefully as his consciousness fades. Tendrils of his soul reach out and brush against hers, still hesitant and waiting for permission even in his sleep. She opens up a part of herself and allows him to nestle against her soul.

 

She doesn't sleep the whole night. 

 

Morning announces itself in the unholy shriek of the alarm clock. Kylo growls, releasing her from their embrace to switch it off. Rey rises from her hazy half-awake state, a breakfast bar awaiting on the tray of a service droid with a bowl of what looks like a different grain. Automatically, she gets out of bed to retrieve it, gnawing on dried nut and oat mix as she selects her clothes for the day. 

 

Kylo watches her with rapt interest, his eyes trailing the path of her legs as she strips her tunic to change. “Are you going to walk with me to the training room?” She asks.

 

“Is that all you get for breakfast?” Kylo asks instead of answering her question. 

 

“Uh, yes? Did you want some?” 

 

He stares at her, asghast. Rey doesn’t even know what upset him until he gets up and cups her chin, “Let’s get you a real breakfast.” He offers gently.

 

Rey blinks, “What about training?”

 

“Consider today your break.” Kylo places his mask on. 

 

Kylo exits then pauses at the doorway, glancing back at her and gesturing for her to follow. Rey jogs after him, the hall lights dim, a red string of emergency lights lining going easy on her sleepy eyes. As always, the early morning hallway is blissfully empty. They get to the training room, Rey’s hand automatically going out for the pad, but Kylo is going further, down to the door that leads directly to his room. She follows him, sitting next to him on his angular, soft couch. He takes off his helmet and puts it on the table. 

 

“So this is going to be different from now on.” Kylo says, though not at all what she expected him to be like. He’s not smug, like when she first came to him. He’s business-like, but also… Rey wasn’t sure, gentle? Empethetic? “I want you to know that what happens in the training room can’t change. I need to be your teacher there, and sometimes that means I need to be hard on you.”

 

“I understand.” Rey says, draping her legs over his lap. 

 

“You need to advance fast enough so that I can present you to Snoke during the next meeting.” Kylo adds as an afterthought. Rey’s breathing falter, though she desperately tries to hide her fear at that prospect. She doesn’t know Snoke, other than what Luke told her, but she has very little desire to find out more. She had always hoped that Luke would take the torch for that. 

 

Kylo senses her panic and pats her leg, “Don’t worry, Snoke always knows what’s best. His methods can be,” His hand twitches, “harsh, that’s true, but he does it for us.” 

 

Rey presses her mouth into a thin line, refusing to meet Kylo’s eyes. How can his views be so… twisted? It’s not like he says those things sarcastically, either, he says them with full vindication, as though he is not at all worthy to be Snoke’s disciple. Kylo continues, his arm wrapping around Rey’s shoulder and continuing, his eyes almost glazing over as he speaks, “My parents, Han, especially, were never there for me. He never wanted to admit that his son was a  _ freak _ , and tried to ignore the fact that my powers were rapidly developing. Because I didn’t know… anything about the force, or how to control or know when it’s affecting me. Accidents began to happen around the house, and every time… Han Solo would punish me.”

 

Rey sucks in her breath, but doesn’t try to contradict him with the protests bubbling up in her chest. Kylo doesn’t talk anymore, he’s staring at the wall, teeth clenched as though he’s just barely keeping his rage in check. His blood roars under his skin, his heart rate skyrocketing. She runs her fingers over the underside of his wrist, the skin there so easily split if she wanted to dig her fingernails into the flesh. She can feel the memories of the dark isolation of the room he would be locked in. She says, “You were alone.” Like her. 

 

“Yes.” Kylo affirms, “At first. But Snoke heard my cries for help, and he would keep me company in the dark. He would tell me stories of my grandfather and of the Great Sith before him. He told me how to meditate, how to harness my powers. Rey,” He cups her chin, turning her to face him, “He helped me, Rey. He’ll help you. Do you understand?”

 

Rey nods in one quick movement of her head, just to get him to stop talking. She remembers Starkiller Base, how cold felt for the first time. She feels that cold creeping through her veins now, an icy seed of fear had taken her heart. Her throat is dry as she lies, “I do understand.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for my brief untimely demise. School kicked me right in the ass so I had to juggle and prioritize. Also, I unfortunately lost my little notebook in which I write down the chapters. Which is unfortunate because I actually had a lot, maybe four more chapters, written down in there. I hope to find it soon!


End file.
